


Proverbs 10:12

by Aubraucity



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), BAMF Alastor, BAMF everyone, Cameo, F/F, Flashbacks, I might add tags, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Multi, Poor Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Slow Burn, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, angel dust makes a deal, i dunno, not aromantic, radiodust - Freeform, they're demons, what do you expect?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aubraucity/pseuds/Aubraucity
Summary: Alastor is eager to strike up a new deal.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Kudos: 47





	Proverbs 10:12

**Author's Note:**

> Suffer in silence. I felt inspired.

Alastor’s chambers were a wing unto themselves, a sprawl of rooms Angel Dust found only after an hour of wandering around the hotel and cursing whatever dipshit designed the dump.

Niffzy stumbled across him and cheerfully showed Angel Dust to Alastor’s study before curtsying and scurrying off. As he crossed through the threshold, Angel detected the burnt sugary smell of the Radio Demon’s voodoo shit and saw that the door opened to the foyer of an apartment. A glance out the massive windows told Angel that they were in a penthouse on the other side of the Inner City.

Angel whistled, “Nice crib.”

Everything was vintage. Heavy velvet curtains hung across the windows. Plush armchairs were arranged in front of a hearth that cheerfully crackled with hellfire. A piano sat against one wall, and an antique radio sat proudly on a table topped with polished green marble.

A crystalline chandelier dashed bright reddish prisms against the plaster pillars, and verdant green ferns hung from wicker baskets and sat on mahogany stands.

And at the center of it all was Alastor himself.

He was sleeping, draped along a black chaise. His head was thrown back, strands of scarlet and ebony hair caressing the collar of his velvet frock coat. His lips, usually stretched into an overly wide grin, only wore a soft smile, and were parted ever so slightly. Dark red lashes brushed the tops of his cheekbones.

Holy shit. Alastor was  _ fine. _

“I am well acquainted with a photographer, if you care to utilize his services.”

He was also apparently not sleeping.

The Radio Demon swung into a seated position, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. He grinned as his eyes slashed up to meet Angel’s. He glimpsed the vivid burst of ruby before a wave of pure terror crackled through the air and clawed at his mind. 

Angel Dust gasped, but the feeling was gone nearly as soon as it came. Nothing remained but the memory of skin-crawling fear.

“I apologize for the tickle,” Alastor drawled, rising to his feet and ambling over to a low table tucked between two pillars, “Some of my abilities are more volatile than others, and try as I might, I can’t seem to look at you without wanting to see you cower and beg for mercy!”

The words were casual, as if he was merely commenting about the weather. A thrill of rage boiled Angel’s blood. Alastor didn’t seem to notice or care; he sloshed coffee into a mug and knocked it back in one long gulp. He refilled the mug, then turned to face Angel. The escort braced himself for the flare of panic, but it never came. The Radio Demon merely inspected him, manic eyes raking him from head to toe.

“A wonder indeed!” He announced to no one in particular. “Proper clothes to hide all of that filth-Color me amazed.” A laugh track sounded out of nowhere as Alastor leered at him over the rim of his mug, “Or did someone tell you about bathing?”

Angel Dust’s lacquered claws cut into the fabric of his sweatpants, “You called me here, Smiles,” he said dryly, unwilling to respond to the insult. He didn’t want the overlord to have the satisfaction, “And as you can see, I’m here. Whaddya want?”

“Forgive me, but did I neglect to specify a time?” The static in his voice buzzed louder, but his tone feigned innocence as he stalked closer. “When did I say you should come, hmm?”

He paused close enough that Angel could smell that pungent, earthy scent wafting off of him. He could see the dark embroidery etched along the hem of his sleeves, and count the beads on his monocle.

“Well?” he prompted.

“Now,” Angel Dust admitted reluctantly, “The note said I needed to come  _ now.” _

“He reads!” Alastor exclaimed. Another burst of laughter rang through the room, “yes, good. But remind me….when was that?”

“Yesterday!”

“Ding-ding, we  _ have  _ a winner!” He snapped his fingers, and his microphone appeared. Alastor flourished it, “How fascinating,  _ yesterday _ being  _ now _ and vise versa. Are all floozies unfamiliar with the concept of time? Or did I overestimate your intelligence?”

Angel could bear it no longer, “Really?” he said, “you’re gonna call me stupid? You think that  _ hurts _ , smiles? I’ve been called a fucking retard my whole life. I was ‘spectin something a little more elegant from the mighty Radio Demon.” Angel dragged a careless gaze around the lavishly decorated study, “Although nuance hardly seems to be ya forte.”

Alastor’s gloves hand snapped out to wrap around Angel’s chin. Even through the fabric, his touch was as cold as the grave. Angel Dust glared at the Overlord, who only smiled back, sharp as a knife’s edge.”

“It’s alive,” Alastor’s voice crackled with static, “and **_it_** **_B̸̛̤͎̞̈́Į̴̔̕T̵̢͔͒̃̓E̴̩̭͂̽S̴̞̮̃ͅ.̷̬͈͌̈́.̸̧͚̭̩̓͗.̴̠͕̊̂”_** His voice echoed and tripled in volume. After a moment, Angel Dust realized that the demon’s fingers trailed a cool, clinical line down his throat, “Tell me, my most clever friend, do you understand the concept of reciprocity?”

“I owe ya nothing,” Angel took a step back.

“Nothing?” Alastor tilted his head curiously, “After I saved you and your little friends? Why, you owe me everything.”

“Listen busta. I didn’t ask for you to beat that dipshit’s ass. So ya want a favor, you gotta pay up with somethin’ else.”

Alastor stared at him for a long moment, his eyes unreadable, “Very well,” he rocked closer once more to lean close. Angel felt the whisper of his metallic breath against his cheek, “Why, I do believe I won, Husk.”

Angel took an involuntary step back as the grouchy drunk appeared from behind a curtain. His pouchy yellow eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms and scowled at Alastor. The winged cat demon was very good at scowling, “You do not,” his mouth twisted in anger, “You said it would take half an hour. Not that he’d not do it at _ all _ .”

“But you wagered it would only take ten minutes, my foolish friend. I believe I therefore win by default!” He swept into a bow as applause sounded for everywhere and nowhere at once, thick with a layer of radio static. 

“Fine. Whatever,” He slapped a wad of crumpled bills onto a table, “But I’ll have it back soon, asshole.”

“Care to wager on it?” Alastor shot back.

“Hey!” Angel Dust’s voice was loud. The two demons turned toward him with looks that meant they had forgotten he was even there. Angel had seen it plenty of times before in his line of work, “Were you two bettin’ on how long it would take for Smiles here to-”

“Seduce you? Yes, of course!” The Radio Demon tilted his head and smiled hugely, “Does that bother you?”

Rage seethed in every fiber of Angel’s body. Husk, sensing potential danger, wisely slipped out of the study, silent as a shadow.

“Well, you certainly surprised us both.” Alastor cocked a red eyebrow as he reached into his pocket and drew out a slim envelope. He didn’t even give it a second look, just tossed it at Angel’s feet, “Apparently you’re not entirely a lost cause. My offer still stands, however.”

Angel Dust bent over and snatched up the paper. He caught a glimpse of sums inked with a sharp hand. Carelessly scrawled signatures, “And...whaddya think I need your money for?”

“Why, to release you from your contract with that putrid moth demon! Isn’t that something you’ve wanted for decades?”

“Yeah, but what's the catch? Whaddya want from me?”

Alastor walked over to his desk and sat down neatly, “Your company will suffice. I haven’t met a sorry soul who will meet me eye to eye in quite some time! It’s really quite a lonely eternity,” the static became louder as his eyes lowered away from Angel’s. “You’ll accompany me on my errands and assist me as you see fit, as well as to allow me to indulge in your presence from time to time.”

“You want me to be ya friend?” The words were thick with incredulity, “You’ll pay off my contract with Val and all I gotta do is hang with ya sometimes?”

“Putting it that way, yes.” Alastor’s grin widened as he extended his hand, bright green flames erupting around it, casting garish shadows on the walls, “Do we have a deal?”

Angel stared at him for a long moment, trying to tell if the demon was trying to trick him. Then he sighed and clasped Alastor's hands through the flames, giving it a firm shake as he swallowed the uneasy feeling rising from his throat.

What did he have to lose?


End file.
